a bit of angst?
This fic was written for word of the day but I might submit it for naruto_contest, although it's not my favourite piece. Pre-jitter for exams have set in and I can't find it in myself to write, even though the exam will be easy. Anyways,
fabricate \FAB-ri-keyt\, verb:
1. to make, build, or construct
2. to make up, invent
3. to fake or forge a document or signature
It is much stronger than a genjutsu, this fabrication he has created; an intricate web of deceit masterfully interweaving precious memories while piercing through a fragile heart.
Itachi knows he has laid his victim bare, stripped him of everything save his life.
There is a tingle of sick pleasure mixed with ever-present guilt at the knowledge, and he thinks it is testament to just how far he has come within this organization of criminals.
A quick swipe of a kunai and blood splatters to speckle lily-coloured walls and a hanging family photo. The small, dark-haired boy falls to the floor, still gurgling as blood drains from his open throat.
"Let's go." Itachi motions to Kisame and the two turn, heading out from the Stone warlord's noble estate. He does not look back at the boy, and ignores the resemblance. There is blood on the hem of his cloak, his hands and the cuffs of his sleeves but that's to be expected.
Just like that night, the moon is high in the sky and the atmosphere is deathly quiet. A familiar numbness settles over his heart but his face is a blank mask of indifference.
"You don't enjoy killing, do you?" Kisame asks, grinning as he licks blood off his thumb. "Not like me, at least. It's just a job to you."
Itachi doesn't bother to reply. Answering would mean thinking about this game of pretence he has decided to play with himself, of the lengths he's gone to for the protection of a village that has betrayed and condemned him.
The wind howls and drops of blood drip from Itachi's fingertips. He pays no mind, lost in memories of messy black hair and an overeager smile superimposed over red sharingan eyes burning with fury.
They leave as they came, silently walking into the sandy abyss of the desert. Itachi of the Akatsuki disappears into the darkness.
He has laid himself bare and stripped himself of everything.
It is much stronger than a genjutsu, this fabrication he has created; an intricate web of deceit masterfully interweaving precious memories while piercing through a fragile heart.
He feels a tingle of sick pleasure at the knowledge that Sasuke is coming to finally end it all… and smiles.
.